Wednesday, July 15, 2009

milkweed

Milkweed

While I stood here, in the open, lost in myself,I must have looked a long timeDown the corn rows, beyond grass,The small house,White walls, animals lumbering toward the barn.I look down now. It is all changed.Whatever it was I lost, whatever I wept forWas a wild, gentle thing, the small dark eyesLoving me in secret.It is here. At a touch of my hand,The air fills with delicate creaturesFrom the other world.